CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Ronan's pov

He raised an eyebrow. “I figured. You only come down here when something’s either bleeding or making your chest hurt.”

I scowled. “You’re not as wise as you think.”

He grinned. “I’ve outlived three assassination attempts, five near wars, and a wife with a dagger collection. I think I’ve earned the title.”

“I still think your cat’s trying to kill you.”

He reached down and scratched the fat black menace curled up at his feet. “She only bites people she doesn’t like. You should take that personally.”

“I do.”

A moment of silence passed before he added with a sly smile, “So… has she bewitched you yet?”

I groaned and dropped into the chair across from him. “I’m not here for your jokes.”

“Ah,” he said, closing his book with a soft thump. “Then I suppose we’re finally ready to talk seriously.”

I met his gaze. “She’s different.”

That made him pause.

Just a second.

But it was enough.

He looked up, and I caught it—something behind his gaze. A glint of something almost… satisfied.

I narrowed my eyes. “What was that?”

“What was what?” he asked, already returning to his page.

“That look. That smug, old-fool look you just gave me.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and amused. “It’s nice to see you flustered. You were always such a stiff child.”

I growled. “You’re wasting my time.”

“Time is always wasted on the young,” he muttered. Then he closed his book with a soft thump and leaned forward. “Tell me about her.”

“She’s… different.” I sat down across from him. “She’s from Moonstone. I sensed nothing special at first, just a weak, quiet girl. But then things started happening.”

“Ah,” he said, steepling his fingers. “Things.”

“Garrick found her bleeding in the forest the first day. No wolf scent. Dormant. Nothing. And yet… something about her made Alaric stir.”

Aldric hummed. “That’s rare. Your wolf doesn’t stir for much.”

I ignored the comment. “She had a dream. Some kind of vision. That same day, her injuries were gone. Healed.”

Now that caught his attention.

He leaned back, a crooked smile curling at his lips. “The moon goddess can’t seem to keep her hands off this one.”

“What does that mean?”

Aldric didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up a wine bottle from the table beside him, poured two glasses, and held one out to me.

I didn’t take it.

“Aldric.”

“Ronan,” he said in the same sarcastic tone. “You’re always so grim.”

“I didn’t come here to drink and trade riddles. I came for answers.”

“And I’ve been giving them. You’re just not listening.”

I rose from my chair. “Forget it.”

But just as I turned to leave, he spoke again—soft, like a hook aimed straight for my throat.

“How long have you felt the bond?”

I froze.

No one knew.

Not Garrick. Not Alaric. Not even Lyra.

I never said it out loud.

Slowly, I turned to face him again. “What did you just say?”

Aldric’s eyes glinted with that irritating, all-knowing smugness. “You heard me.”

“How do you know about the bond?”

“Because I’ve felt it before. And because I know what to look for in a man pretending he hasn’t been unraveled.”

I clenched my fists. “I don’t know what it is. I— It’s not a mate bond. It doesn’t feel like one. It’s… it’s something else.”

Aldric rose to his feet, moving toward the fireplace, silhouetted by its soft glow.

“She is not just a girl,” he said, voice low. “She never was. You feel the bond because it is woven into her blood. Into her soul. It is older than you, older than me.”

“What bond?” I snapped. “Tell me what the hell it is.”

He turned to me slowly. “You already know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is when the truth terrifies you.”

I wanted to rip the answer from him. Shake it out of his cryptic old bones.

Instead, I dragged a hand down my face. “Why are you always like this?”

He grinned. “Because it’s fun.”

“I should’ve let that demon cat of yours eat you last winter.”

“You say that every year.”

“And one day I’ll mean it.”

We stared at each other in a strange, familiar silence.

This man. This maddening man wasn’t even my blood.

He found me twenty-one years ago, a feral child bleeding in the forest, wild and afraid. He’d taken me in, raised me like a son, and somehow managed to turn me into a king.

But right now, I wanted to wring his neck.

“You’re saying she’s… tied to something bigger. But what does that mean for me?”

“It means,” he said, walking past me toward his shelf of scrolls, “that you should choose your next actions very, very carefully.”

“Why?”

“Because she is far more important than you know.”

I stared at him.

“You’ve been playing games with her, haven’t you?” he asked, not looking at me. “Pushing and pulling. Tearing her down. Keeping her close.”

“She’s from Moonstone. I have to be cautious.”

“And yet your wolf wants to protect her.”

“I can’t afford to—”

“You can’t afford not to,” he cut in, turning back toward me. “You’re fighting it, Ronan. I see it. Alaric sees it. And I promise you that if you keep resisting, you’ll do more damage than you can ever repair.”

My jaw clenched.

He moved toward me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Whatever this bond is, it’s yours. You were meant to find her.”

I didn’t answer.

“Stop running from it,” he whispered. “Before it destroys you.”

I shook him off.

“I don’t need your riddles,” I muttered. “I’ll figure it out myself.”

He laughed as he turned back to his chair. “You always were stubborn.”

“I learned from the best.”

“Now go,” he said, waving me off like a child. “You’re disturbing my peace.”

“I hope the cat shits on your pillow.”

“I hope she rips your heart out.”

I rolled my eyes and walked to the door.

As I stepped into the hall, I exhaled slowly.

I wasn’t sure what I’d expected coming here. But part of me had hoped for something more than cryptic warnings and smug smiles.

Still… he was right about one thing.

It was time to stop avoiding this.

Time to find Lyra.

And maybe, this time, speak the truth neither of us wanted to say aloud.